


A Golden Age

by not_a_tuna_fish_ish



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Fire, Forbidden Love, Ghosts, Homophobia, Infidelity, Inspired by The Great Gatsby, Internalized Homophobia, Long Island- New York, M/M, Original Character(s), Requited Love, Sleeping Together, There might be a happy ending, Unrequited Love, beaches and parties, descriptions of a woman's body, dont get scared by the original characters tag they are really not the focus of the story, except i dont know much about the period, fire as a symbol of both fear and desire, its kind of a period piece, its mostly a love story, no beta we die like wilbur soot (rip), references to greek mythology (the three fates), the 1920's, there might not, we shall see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:54:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29423406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_a_tuna_fish_ish/pseuds/not_a_tuna_fish_ish
Summary: In the 1920’s, Dream and Technoblade fall into a forbidden love.(brought to you by the creator of ‘An Unending Brevity’)
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 102
Kudos: 203





	1. The Train

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i forgot to make a note!!! 
> 
> Techno's hair is short and brown in order to be more time-period accurate. That is all. (rip pinkette technoblade)
> 
> also!! in this world there is a train you can take to get to long island. why??? because i don't know much about new york and for some reason when i wrote this i thought there was a train
> 
> I hope you enjoy this story! leave a comment telling me what you thought :)

Technoblade dodges and weaves between the people, the suitcase in his hand almost smacking a man as he passes, catching his hat as it almost falls off. The train station is bustling at this time of day, people talking as they move, walking from one place to the next. Ladies wear curt dresses with boot-like heels, and they gesture brightly to their friends and their men, talking about whatever. Men admire the ladies and the trains, speaking about the times, and how beautiful they are, how booming! Boys and girls make up stories about the people walking past, sitting along the side of the station and laughing and playing. They should be in school right now, but times are good! School can wait. The older children have a few vague memories of a war, but many of them do not, and almost all of them have let themselves forget it in favor of the light-hearted play of their youth. There is noise all around, footsteps paired with a million other things. A business deal seems to be going badly in the corner. Two lovers are embracing at a door. The woman is crying, perhaps she will not see the man again. If he is sad he does not show it.

“Sorry!” Techno calls over his shoulder as he bumps somebody. The disgruntled fellow tells him to watch it. But he can’t stop, he doesn’t have time. The train leaves a minute ago, he is late. 

“Last call!” a man in a booth shouts. “Last call to the North Shore!” 

“I’m going to the North Shore! Wait! Wait!” Techno runs past a group of men arguing loudly, he can see the train now, the huge lug of copper and brass machinery. He watches the steam rise from the smokebox and hears the wheels creak forward on the track. “Wait!” A whistle calls out. The train is leaving now, and he is chasing after it. “Wait!” 

A man who must have heard him peaks his head out one of the doors, between two train cars. “Here, man!” He shouts, and extends his hand to Techno. “Run, run!” He catches up to the train- just barely- and takes the man’s hand gratefully, letting the other fellow pull him aboard. 

He pants, and can feel the smoke in the air tickle his lungs. The other man speaks: “Wow, man, that’s calling it close!” He looks up at the fellow. Bright green eyes peer back at him, inquisitively. A few strands of hair that have fallen out from under his hat are a golden blond color. 

“Thank you,” he says. 

“Not a problem.” The wind is whipping around them until the blond man closes the door. It shuts with a ‘thud’ and the inside of the train car is warm and bright. “How come you cut it so close?”

Techno liked the way the man spoke. His voice was rhythmic, like the click of the wheels on the tracks that he could faintly hear beneath him. “I had to pick up a suit,” he answers. 

“Oh? Going somewhere nice?” The blond man starts walking, and Techno follows him. 

“Yes. A party.” 

The man’s green eyes light. “A party, you say? I don’t suppose it’s Gatsby’s, is it?” 

It was. “Who else’s?” Techno says. “His are always the grandest. It's the only reason I would be travelling this far, anyways.” 

“Well, what fine news! I happen to be going there as well.” 

“Oh!” Techno looks the man up and down. “I don’t believe I caught your name.” He puts his hand out with a smile. 

“It’s Dream.” Dream takes the hand firmly and shakes.

“Techno.” The other man notes the calluses on the knuckles absentmindedly. “Dream? Now that’s a strange name, If I ever heard one.” 

“You’re one to talk, Techno! Your parents must not have liked you very much.” He is teasing, eyebrows pulled up with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah.” At the same moment a woman maneuvers past him in the aisle, and her eyes gloss over his, arm brushing against his hand accidentally. She flashes him a smile.

“Let's take a seat,” says Dream. “You can sit with me, certainly.”

Techno lets himself be lead by Dream. They are in a booth, now, somewhat closed off from the rest of the train. There are curtains over the windows for privacy, although most of them are open, and the seats unfold into beds for the overnight journeys. Dream’s luggage is already overhead. The wall is covered by a big window, overlooking the city which is quickly disappearing from them. Techno looks out at it. Tall buildings dirtied with soot and coal, telephone wires that cut the sky into pieces, the bright blue behind it. Shops and stores and workers taking breaks, smoking nonchalantly, watching the world around them. 

“Cigarette?” Dream offers, taking a seat. 

“No thank you.” 

“Then, mind if I smoke?”

“Not at all,” he sits across from him, looking out the window. 

Dream leans forward, his voice dropping to a mischievous whisper. “Say, did you see the way that dame looked at you? Now, tell me that doesn’t happen all the time.” 

Techno blushes but quickly recovers. “O-oh. Yes, well I guess I don’t really notice. I’ve already got a girl, you see.”

“Oh you do? Real sweet gal?” 

“Yeah.” She had pretty blond hair that would pool in his hands when they kissed. And she talked a lot.

Dream bit the end of his cigarette. “You two serious? I mean, you been with her a while?”

“No, not long. A month or two.” They met through a friend. 

The blond man’s jaw relaxed a little and he looked out the window. “Ya like her?” 

He shifted in his seat. “Asking pretty personal questions there, don’t you think.” 

Dream put his hands up in mock defense and he chuckled awkwardly. “Sorry, sorry, I tend to get a little carried away when I’m talking to people. I’m just a friendly person, that’s all!” He smiled sheepishly. “Let's play something. You know any card games?”

“Sure. You like blackjack?” 

“I do.” Dream took out a deck of cards from his jacket pocket, worn at the corners and with folds on the aces, and started to shuffle. 

Techno spoke. “You’re… a serious player.” 

Dream laughed, bright and loud. “I see you’ve noticed the deck is scuffed. Don’t worry, my friend, it isn’t mine. You see, I borrowed it from somebody. A fellow who’s to be at Gatsby’s party.” The cards _fwipped_ onto the little pull-out table that they were using, Dream’s eyes following them with close concentration. “I’m planning on returning it to him when I see him.” 

“Then this friend of yours is a cheater.” 

“Ohoho, now, I wouldn’t call it that! He’s awful at cards, just awful. So really it’s just leveling the playing field.” His fingers fumbled and a card landed upturned, a jack. He turned it back over. “Ya see, some of us men just don’t get a fair hand in life. Is it really cheating if it was never fair to begin with?” 

Dream’s eyes met his. There was something buried underneath his expression, something pallid and desperate. Like he was starving and he wasn’t supposed to tell anybody about it. It was only there for a second, before the man looked down again. 

They played, round after round. Towards the end of the last one, Techno knew Dream had all the aces- he could tell from the corners. 

“I won,” he said. 

Dream shrugged. “Keep playing and find out.”

Techno squinted his eyes in suspicion. _What is he playing at? He knows I can see that I won._ Not quite understanding, he reached across the table to confirm his victory, letting the back of his hand brush against Dream’s ever so slightly. He turned over the other man’s cards and leaned back. “I won.” 

Dream smiled. “You did.” 

Techno’s eyes searched the other man’s face. _He is messing with me._ He looked out his window. It was almost afternoon, now, and a soft ochre light was spilling into their booth. The city had long since left them behind. Now they passed by rolling fields of gold and green, wheat and crops that would spring up in a month and be shipped inward, to the heart of New York, and to the mouths of the cities. “You know how long we’ve been here?” he asked. 

“An hour or two,” Dream replied. “Hungry?”

Techno shrugged. They went into the dining car, Dream taking his hat off when they got there, out of politeness if nothing else. _Pretty,_ he thought, looking at the other man’s blond locks. They lighted in the afternoon sun. 

Techno passed by the woman who looked at him earlier, averting his eyes when he saw her. She pursed her lips in offense but tried not to let it bother her, turning her head to the side in a gesture of apathy. Techno and Dream took a seat at a table, a red carnation in a small glass vase perched between them. 

A lady walks up to them, she works for the train. Dream can tell because of the uniform and bright smile. “And what can I get for you two gentlemen?” She asks. 

“What are you in the mood for?” Dream asks Techno. The other man is distracted by the way the red of the carnations adorns the other man’s wrist, from the angle that he’s looking. 

“Oh! Uh, what do you have?” 

The woman addresses him. “How about a ham sandwich and a coke?” 

“Sounds great,” he replies distractedly, as Dream says he’ll have the same. He is still looking at the red flower at the center of his table. He wonders what it would look like with it’s stem twisted between his companions fingers, winding and wrapping around his hand. He sees the green of the stem pitched against his colorless hands, the shadows of the grooves and spaces. The leaves would brush against his palms and they’d be rough on the pads of his fingers. Suddenly, the other man leaned forward. 

The air is heady with the man’s breath as he gets close and hushes something to Techno, talking about the woman: “Did you see the size of her?” He’s talking about her breasts. Techno smells cigarette mixed with something else, dripping on the mischievous words, and watches Dream’s eyes as he sits back in his seat, looking out the window.

“She was wrong to call you a gentleman,” Techno jokes, folding his arms on the table. 

“Certainly, certainly wrong. Nothing gentlemanly about me. I am a bull.” His fingers grip the table. 

“I’m sure you are. I’ll take that smoke, now.” 

Dream is laughing as he hands it to him, shifting in seat. He unbuttons the jacket of his suit and loosens the tie. Then he procures a match from nowhere and in a moment it’s ablaze, Techno leaning forward to catch the lip of the flame with his smoke, the other man’s hand coming close to his face. “You know,” he says as he extinguishes the match, “I think I’m gonna mind this overnight journey. Those makeshift bed-things that have in the booths can hardly be called beds- it's like sleeping on a railroad track.”

“Mm-hmm.” 

“You don’t talk much.” 

“I would if I had something to say.”

Dream chuckled. “You tryin’ ta convince me you’re stupid or something? Naw, naw.” He shakes his head. “Never seen a fool look out at the world like you do.” 

Techno opened his mouth a little to question the admission, but before he could say anything the food was here. 

They ate in peace as the sun fell over the horizon. The drink tasted like cinnamon and fizzzed in his throat pleasantly.

A man came into the dining car. 

“Mr. Noblade?” he said. 

Techno looked up. “That’s me.”

“Ah!” he walked over. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. You see, it seems there’s been a mistake. We didn’t see you come into the train and so we gave your booth away to another person.”

Techno cringed. “So, where can I sleep?”

The man looked apologetic. “We can offer you a spot in the dining hall.”

Dream cut in, “Oh no no no, there’s no need for that. Each booth comes with two cots, you can just sleep with me.” 

“Are you sure?” asked Techno. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Why, certainly! As if I would let you sleep in the dining hall, even though I just met you.” Dream flashed him a smile and the man looked at them suspiciously. 

“Well, that settles that, then.” He said. “Sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Noblade.” 

“It’s alright,” Techno said, and the man walked away.

\---

They are lying in the cots. The curtains in their booth are closed and Dream’s eyes are shut. Techno looks out the window at the pitch-black, as if there is something that he can see there.

The cots are not as bad as Dream said. There is a blanket over him that’s warm, and the movement of the train is soothing. The night is quiet except for a couple talking in low voices, two booths over. 

Techno’s mind wanders in the heavy silence. Pretty green eyes stare at him in his head. He can taste coca-cola that he thinks he drank off somebody else’s lips. Red flowers pepper his vision, he watches their petals expand and unfold on a man’s body, the man sleeping near him. He thinks the man’s skin would be smooth underneath his suit as his consciousness starts to slip from him. 

His dream-like thoughts turn strange. Dream is kissing him, and with each press of his lips, his skin catches fire. It burns him like hot water, and he means to pull his hands away, but each time instead he leans in for another kiss. Dream kisses the bottom of his tie, and a flame leaps up on his clothes. 

The flame trails up the tie. Green eyes are looking down at him. 

The fire reaches his neck and laps at the bottom of his face. He burrows his chin into them, as if he were nestling his head into a soft mattress, and not a mortal killer. His cheeks feel warm.

Techno is barely awake when he turns to the side and lets his eyes graze over the sleeping figure next to him, only a few feet away. To him, the space between their two cots is unimaginably wide. A cavern so deep and impossible to cross nobody would ever dare. 

He falls asleep…

\---

Morning comes, it’s 6 am.

Dream and Techno, along with all the other bleary-eyed passengers, gather their things and exit the train. 

“Ever been to the Gold Coast?” Dream asks him, as they are stepping off into the station. Another name for the North Shore, as he figures.

“No,” he replies, honestly. He is looking around the station curiously.

“Dream, darling!” It’s a woman’s voice. A lady, elegant and tall, comes up to the two of them and puts her arms around Dream’s neck. She kisses him and he is smiling. 

“Betty, my love!” Dream cries out as he embraces her. Techno looks away awkwardly. 

_Do I leave now?_ He doesn’t know what to do. Who is this woman? _Do I leave? Why does my head feel hot…_

“Oh, Techno, I’m so sorry about that!” Dream turns to the other man with a sheepish grin. His cheeks are covered with lipstick marks. “Where are my manners? I should introduce you! This is my girl,” he gestures to the woman who waves politely, still with an arm wrapped around Dream. 

“How do you do,” Techno says, as he tips his hat. His hand is heavy as he brings it back up, and vertigo assaults him in a tidal wave when he looks her in the eyes. 

“Hello,” she says. She is lovely and his gut twists. 

“Well, I guess this is where we part, my dear friend.” Dream pats his shoulder with a smile. “I will see you at the party tonight?” 

“You bet,” Techno manages a smile back. In a minute, Dream and the girl are gone. 

He has nothing to do today. The party starts in the evening, and until then the city is his. 

Techno finds himself at the Long Island sound. He smokes by the water the whole day. Gulls call out and people are walking past him, behind him, as he looks over the railing at an uneven sea. He is hungry but he doesn’t feel it, and he doesn’t eat anything. His mind is preoccupied with green eyes and red flowers, and he presses the butt of his cigarette into his palm to try and forget about him. All he accomplishes is a bout of tears that well at his eyes from the pain. 

Blurry vision looks through them at a point on the horizon, he concentrates on it until the sharp feeling fades away, and nothing spills down his face. 

The shore courses up the rocks far below his feet, beneath the pier. The memory of Dream leaning close to him swims in his mind as he watches the grey-blue sea.


	2. The Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Folks! its good to see you all. This one is a little shorter, but there will be another one out soon!
> 
> another note: I'm sorry about the countless historical and geographical inaccuracies. I really don't know that much about New York aside from what I've read in the Great Gatsby, and its been a while since I've read that book, so i'm mostly relying on google (rip). 
> 
> nonetheless, I hope you enjoy!

Gatsby’s house was on a cliff by a rocky beach. It was further from the city, and it was huge. Big spiraling columns and staircases and marble floors and tall glass windows that glinted in the sun. He swore he saw the color gold but he couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from, maybe the chandelier, or in the decorations. He arrived in the suit he was almost late to the train station for, a pink pinstripe jacket and a white shirt, a plain yellow flower pinned to his breast. 

The guests would be arriving soon. The party would last a few days, so Techno booked a hotel several blocks down, the closest one. It was a nice place. This would be a nice night.

He doesn’t remember the time between stepping foot at Gatsby’s door and the moment the party was in full swing. But, suddenly, dancing and music and people surrounded him. The bright lights from the festivities poured out of the windows into the starry sky. Drinks were offered and he took them, the bittersweet taste rolling down his throat. There was a lot of laughter as he spoke with the other party guests, not really minding that he didn’t know them- after all, they didn’t know him either. Sip after sip and his eyes scanned the crowd. 

Dream appears at his shoulder. “Hello, Mr. Noblade,” he says with a lopsided smile. 

“Dream!” He replies, and the excitement in his voice is palpable. “Good to see you.” 

He laughs, bright and loose. “My boy, you speak like I wasn’t just talking to you this morning!”

“Is your friend here?” 

Dream blinks, confused. “My friend? Oh, my friend! You mean Betty, of course. Yes she is over, uhh,” he looks around, “Over there. By the bar, of course.” Techno tried to look for a second, but Dream spun him back around. 

“Oh, don’t mind her,” said Dream, waving her off. “Come on, Techno, let’s dance!” 

Techno was pulled by the hand to the middle of a ballroom floor. Swing music was pouring from a piano to the side of the room, a trumpet and a saxophone, a melody lively and sultry. Dream let himself get pulled into the fray of people, bringing Techno along with him.

 _Men do not dance,_ thought the brunette, even as he found himself growing ever closer to his companion. Dream swung to the right and held a girl by the waist, who laughed delightfully. The blond man swayed her from side to side, the smell of vodka prominent on both their lips. 

Dream was looking at him. 

He was looking at him as his hands found a firm place at the woman’s hips, her dress ruffling up slightly where the palms pressed into the fabric. 

The music picked up and he spun her around, Techno felt Dream’s shoulder press up against his chest. The dim lights of the ballroom flickered and faded on Dream’s face as his lighthearted eyes found Techno’s. 

Techno took another drink, and found himself drunker. He offered one to Dream who took it without a second glance. The woman he had been dancing with was abandoned as the night went on, but no matter, she found somebody else with a light smile in her eyes. It got late. 

It was midnight when Dream and Technoblade found themselves by the pool. By now their ties were looser and their jackets unbuttoned, the cuffs ruffled and pulled back. 

“You lost your flower,” Dream said to him. Techno looked down at himself and found the yellow blossom that was pinned to his breast pocket was no longer there. 

“Very observant,” he mumbled, checking himself to see if it had just migrated to another part of his clothes. 

Dream laughed at it. “Certainly you aren’t going to find it there,” he said, voice conspiring. He stood and walked over to one of Gatsby’s many rose bushes. In an ungraceful flurry of leaves he plucked a flower, one that was not quite unfurled into it’s full beauty yet, and brought it over to Techno. 

“Shame,” Techno said. “You shouldn’t be stealing flowers.” He looked at the half-bloomed thing in his friend’s hands. 

“It is not stealing.” Dream leaned close to him and slipped the flower into his chest pocket. Techno could feel a thorn through the cloth, pricking at his skin. 

“I don’t want it there,” he said.

“Oh? You don’t want it there?” Dream pulled the flower back into his hands. “How about here?” He maneuvered it into the pocket on the front side of Techno’s trousers, close to his crotch. A brief moment of eye contact before a palm fell in between his legs. 

Techno pushed the hand away abruptly, darting his eyes around to check if anyone had seen. Nobody had, or if they did they were too drunk to care. 

Dream laughed lightly, but his words fell with a heavy tongue. “Sorry about that, old pal, my hand slipped.” 

“Of course.” 

“We haven’t looked around upstairs yet, would you like to?” 

“Yes.”

They stood, Dream swaying a little as he got up, Techno putting a hand out to steady him. A woman shot them a glance and he retracted the hand like it had been burned. 

They found themselves upstairs in a long hallway, mirrors and vases full of flowers lining the walls. There were less guests up here, it seemed as though this was the more personal part of the house. People who had known each other for years, or felt like they had known each other for years, talked to one another in low, comfortable voices. People kissed in doorways, women's hairpieces going askew from rough-knuckled hands of the man they chose. Dresses were wrinkled from the memory of touches, almost visible from the skin rubbed red or a face flushed in passion. 

_Where are we going?_ Techno didn’t know. The hall led down to a big sitting room in a library. The layout of the place was confusing like a dream, tall bookshelves and dark carpeting disoriented him. Dream closed the door. _There was a door?_

They were sitting side by side in some hidden corner. It was dark and Dream placed his palm on Techno's groin, firmly this time, surely. Techno closed his eyes and rutted against the hand through the fabric. It pressed back down on him and he squeezed his eyes shut. It was over in a tense moment. They did not look at each other even though their bodies were loose with drinks, just stayed there as Techno’s breath came down from a pant. 

Dream gave him a moment before standing up, pulling the other man to his feet as well. Techno’s legs threatened to fail him but the other man’s arms were strong and they steadied him. They disappeared down another hall, Dream leading him. 

It didn’t matter what the other party guests would think, seeing two men disappear into a bedroom alone. Something had broken between them and there were suddenly more important things than social appearance, right and wrong. 

The lock of a bedroom door clicked, swing music echoing from downstairs, people voices muffled from behind the closed door. Three men, drunk and enjoying themselves, trilled and knocked. “Oh, let us in, c’mon, we want to join on the fun!” one of them teased. Another voice: “C’mon we want to see you, cuties!” Loud laughter and someone smacked on the wood, another trying the handle. It jiggled and sounded so loud. Techno clutched Dream’s arm in a sharp fear, his eyes trained on the door, very still, very silent, not moving. The men outside the door moved on, and they were alone. 

Techno thought of the people in the hallway and felt like every single eye was staring at him through the wall. He was terrified and embarrassed but there was something that needed to be done.

He took off his jacket in a flurry. Dream did as well. 

They fell to the floor like animals, drunk with alcohol and love. 

Techno put his fingers through Dream’s hair. They pressed themselves against one another and Techno opened his mouth in a half-moan.

“Mm- Mary.” He tensed, the man above him did too, muscles going taut against his stomach. 

“What.” Dream’s voice was icy and sharp. “What did you call me?” 

Techno said nothing. His hands were frozen on Dream’s hips. 

“Is that your girl?” Dream asked.

“I’m sorry…” Techno’s voice was hoarse. “You have the same hair.” 

Dream’s mouth twisted with rage. He put his face close to the other man and spoke into his ear, heavy and wet: “I am not some girl. I am a bull.” Dream pressed his penis to Techno’s thigh. “A bull.” 

The rest of the night was a burning mess. They got so close to one another and tore each other apart from the inside out. They didn’t kiss. 

Techno’s lips were lonely. It hurt.

He walked himself back to the hotel in the early hours of the morning and slept soundly in his bed, soft sheets between his fingers, the pillow easy beneath his head. 

Out like a light, deeply and fully, he had no dreams.


	3. The Lighthouse

It’s morning. Techno found that he could eat, finally, and he went downstairs to the little cafe they had inside of the building. Sitting outside, he was wearing simpler clothes, more comfortable, and the wind brushed against his arms pleasantly. He sipped on a cup of coffee and ate heartily a plate of eggs and toast, enjoying the atmosphere. Reading a newspaper he bought off a young boy for 3 cents (it was only worth two, but the boy seemed nice), he felt his shoulders relax and a small, contented smile settle on his lips. 

The waitress who was serving him asked if he’d like any more coffee. He held his cup up gratefully as she poured it, and smiled widely at her. She placed down a small cup of fruit at his table. 

“Oh, Miss, I didn’t order this”

“I know. It’s on the house!” She flashed him a wink, and he suddenly remembered a pair of green eyes that might have done the same. 

He thanked her and turned back to his paper, although he wasn’t reading. The words slid across his eyes like water, and he couldn’t focus. Against his own will he tried to remember more, and he knew a pale hand that dragged itself down his thigh, creeping into the space between his legs. 

His mouth twisted when he remembered it’s loneliness. _How loveless,_ he thought, and took a sip of his coffee to warm his lips up.

There would be more festivities tonight. After all, a Gatsby party goes on for days, if not forever. He might see Dream again. 

He didn’t know if he wanted to. 

The fruit was good, and it refreshed him. When the waitress returned with his check he asked her if there was anything fun to do around here. 

“You look like the exploring type. There’s an old thing, Montauk lighthouse, up near the cliffside. I hear it’s got ghosts or something.”

“Now, Lady, don’t be jokin’ about ghosts! You never know with the supernatural.” 

She laughed at him. “Oh you mainlanders are so superstitious. Well, anyways, enjoy it if you go there.”

\---

The lighthouse was tall, a pretty deep red and white thing, stark against the midmorning sky. Techno made his way across the rocky shore, waves lapping from the sea and pouring between the small stones. They threatened to get close to him and douse his boots, but everytime he thought that was going to happen, he would take a peppy step away from the water. It was like a little game- and he smiled, feeling young. 

There was nobody nearby, nothing except the vast ocean and a set of sailboats on the horizon that were too far to be clearly seen. Mossy green grass trailed up away from the shore, leading to the rest of the island. It was a nice sight. 

The structure was now only a foot away from him, and he stared up at it from the base. He pressed his hand to the wood, weathered from years of salt and high tides, and took a deep breath. The thing was rarely used anymore, but just a few years ago it was a beacon to those coming into the country by ship. He opened a door and went inside, then he climbed the steep spiraling stairs. He poked his head out of a hatch and he was at the top, the wind brushing past his face, the light next to him, turned off. 

He thought he could see the whole island from up there. Gatsby’s house and the train station from which he arrived. The sweet fresh air filled his lungs and he was glad that the lady told him to go here. 

Suddenly, he heard the floorboards creak beneath him. Someone was climbing up the stairs. _Ghosts?_ His mind jumped to the conclusion quickly. _No, no, don’t be silly,_ he reassured himself. Whoever it was, they were getting closer. In a few seconds the same hatch that Techno had come through was opened, and then he was greeted with a familiar face. 

“Oh,” said Dream. “What are you doing up here?”

Techno quickly turned his head back around, looking out over the coast. “It’s you.” 

“Yeah.” He stood and brushed himself off. 

“You weren’t very gentle with me last night.” Techno said, face framed by the seafront before him. 

“I’m sorry. I was drunk.” 

“My lips were lonely.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Techno was quiet as the other man walked over, standing next to him. They looked out. A gull squawked from on top of the lighthouse and the wind snuck in underneath their clothes, ruffling their shirts.

“Did you like it?” Dream asked, tentatively. 

“No. You were too rough.” 

A long moment. Then Dream spoke again: “You called me a woman’s name.” 

Techno shifted, ran the back on his hand along the railing that him and Dream were leaning on. It was a steady, even motion. “Yeah.”

“Because we have the same hair?”

“It’s the same color. Hers is longer, though.” 

In a tender voice, Dream spoke. “What do you like about her?” 

“Hmm. She’s pretty. She’s good company.” 

“Anything else?” 

“What more could I want?” Techno said. Dream looked like he was about to speak but Techno interrupted him: “Leave it alone.” 

They stayed there in silence for a second, side by side. 

“Do... you think those men who banged on our door… do you think they’re going to cause us any trouble?” Techno turned to the other man. 

“They won’t.” 

“How do you know?” 

“I won’t let them.” 

Techno snorted. “That’s a pretty confident attitude, coming from a poof like you.”

“I’m not a poof,” Dream said. 

“Me neither.” 

“Right.” 

The breeze tickled their faces and the sound of the waves hitting the rocks echoed up from down below. 

“Say, Dream, why did you come here? I mean, to the lighthouse.” 

“I like to come up here whenever I’m in the area. It’s nice and quiet, away from the city.” 

“Yeah. Surely you don’t mind that I’m here?” 

“I mind a little,” Dream said. Techno winced and turned to leave, but just as he was turning around the blond man put out a hand to stop him. “But- don’t go.” 

“You want me here?” 

“I.. well I certainly don’t want you to go.” 

Techno laughed, loudly and bright. “You like me or something.” 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” 

Techno smiled cheekily. “Will I see you at the party tonight?” 

“Why, certainly.” 

“You sure say certainly a lot.” 

“I like the word. It’s confident! Men are meant to have confidence. Certainly, certainly, certainly.” 

Techno blushed a little. “You sure do have a lot of that. Confidence, I mean.” 

Dream looked away, suddenly embarrassed as well. “You said I was too rough. I can be gentle.” 

“Can you, bull?” 

“I want to believe I could. But it’s- it’s like an animal inside me. When it happens. It’s hardly me.” 

“What do you mean?”

“When I feel that way for a man. It’s like an animal. Is it like that for you?” 

“No,” Techno lied. 

“I have to leave now. I have to go see Betty.” 

Jealousy flared up in him. “Oh, what. You have to go kiss her, and fuck her?” 

Dream snapped his head to the other man. “Don’t you talk about her like that. Don’t you say those things.”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Cuz I’ll kick your ass, that’s why.” 

“I could take you in a fight. Betty’s a whore.” 

The blond man was on him in a second. Techno let himself get pushed to the floor and felt a fist hit his side. He groaned. 

Dream was going to let another punch down but he stopped when he caught the look in the other man’s eye. “Oh,” he said, as his fist lowered. The man below him looked so vulnerable. “Oh, you just needed somebody to hold you down. It’s okay, it’s okay.” Dream stroked Techno’s hair. “It’s alright. I’m sorry I punched you.”

Techno couldn’t say anything. 

Dream’s voice was chaste. “What is it, what is it? Do you need it now?” Dream pressed Techno closer to the floor. “I can’t give it to you now, I’m sorry. Here,” he leaned down, slowly, carefully, and kissed the other man’s face. He kissed his cheeks, and his lips, and the bridge of his nose, and his temples, and every part of him that he could reach. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he mumbled. 

“Betty,” Techno murmured from his place on the floor, reminding the other man that he had somewhere to be. 

Dream cringed and moved away from the brunette. “Yeah, I have to go. I’ll see you at the party?”

Techno sat up. “Maybe. You did just punch me.” 

“Well you insulted my girl.”

“You’re cheating on her!” 

“It’s not cheating! It’s not the same. Look, we don’t have time to talk about this, I’m going. I’ll see you then!” 

And with that, a head of blond hair disappeared into the lighthouse. Techno heard the footsteps fade until Dream reached the beach, and then he was gone. 

He didn’t stand up from the floor of the lighthouse for a while, he just sat there, listening to the waves, hearing the gulls cry, the wind coursing past just above his head, just out of reach.


	4. The Cave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone! i hope you enjoy this chapter. 
> 
> Much love to you all <3 im sorry this story is kind of a mess, i'm not really sure what happened to it, but someone might enjoy reading it anyways
> 
> my twitter account for my ao3: @not_a_tuna_fish
> 
> I post updates and talk about writing, along with some of my favorite comments.

They are standing next to each other outside of Gatsby’s house, the second night of the party. 

The guests are just starting to arrive as the sun sets, Dream can hear their voices from the front entrance of the house. He and Techno are leaning against a wall, tucked away from the light of the party, where they couldn’t be seen unless someone was looking. 

“Why did you hit me?” Techno asks. “Do you really love that woman that much?” 

Dream took a deep breath of his cigarette. “I don’t like the way you make me feel. I didn’t know what to do about it. So I hit you.”

“Don’t hit me again.” 

“Deal.” 

Techno held his hand out like he was asking for something. Dream looked the man up and down curiously before taking the cigarette from his own mouth and placing it delicately between the other man’s fingers. Techno brought it to his lips and made sure his spit touched the end as he inhaled, before giving it back to Dream. 

Dream took it in his mouth and looked away. He could taste the other man. 

“I’m gonna break it off with Mary,” Techno said.

“Who?” said Dream. “Oh right, that woman. Sure, but don’t do it for me. Because I’m not leaving Betty.” 

“You like her more than me?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Liar.” 

Dream’s eyes darted away. His face was soft when he looked out over the shining coastline. “What do ya say we get outta here?” 

“Yeah? And go where?” 

“Down by the coast. We can walk along the rocks, and lay in the grass. It’ll be dark soon, nobody will see us.”

“That would be good. Want to wait until the sun goes down?” 

“Yeah.” 

They did, and as the big orange thing on the horizon fell behind the sea, Techno got closer to his companion. His hand reached out with a want to touch, but he kept it close to his side, careful not to let it stray. 

Dream saw it. “Not yet,” he whispered. “Wait a minute. Just a minute.” 

Then they were walking along the rocky coastline. They walked until it was only, starlight illuminating their way, the moon barely a sliver. The long island coast seemed to stretch on forever, they walked until they couldn’t see Gatsby’s house anymore. 

“What are we looking for?” Techno asked Dream. 

“A place to hide,” said the other man. 

They found it miles from the coast, a little alcove in a cave settled into the cliffside. They tucked themselves away in there and had each other. Techno kept sneaking nervous glances over his shoulder like he was afraid someone would be there, standing over them, watching them. He wanted to run. But Dream calmed him, steadied his hands, reassured him it was okay, let him take him down to the bottom of the ocean between tangled limbs. 

“I’m sorry I hit you,” Dream whispered in his ear in the heat of something. 

“You’ve apologized already.” 

“I mean it. How can I hit something I love.” 

“You love me?” 

“I love that you give me this.” 

“Go deeper…” 

They became a hundred pieces mixed together, lying there on the cave floor. Techno could see the stars above him and he thought him and Dream must have looked like them, bright and fractured, scattered and loud. They seemed to beam down at him from above as his face burned in their light, and Dream’s blond hair fell into his hands, and he didn’t think of Mary. He was gone.

When they parted their sweaty bodies Dream didn’t want to leave him. The blond man put his hands out and pressed them to Techno’s body. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I want to feel you.” 

“Go ahead…” he was still as Dream touched him, patiently waiting for the man to explore like he was young. “Have you ever been with a man?” Techno asked, in a low voice.

“Not before you.”

“It’s nice. It feels happy when they hold you down. Women are so sad all the time, so sickly sweet. Men aren’t like that, at least, I don’t think.” 

The sounds of the waves behind them. Techno stood, bringing Dream with him, keeping the blond man’s hand connected to him at all times. Techno stepped out of the cave, just slightly. The cool air brushed his naked body.

“What are you doing? Be careful,” Dream cautioned. 

“It’s okay, there's nobody here. C’mon.” 

Techno, suddenly, dropped Dream’s hand and ran to the water. He dived in with a splash. A moment later, Dream followed him, surfacing in the deep blue ocean beside him. 

“It’s freezing,” said Dream. 

“Yeah, but beautiful.” They watched the way the sliver of moonlight danced on the inky black sea. Techno kissed Dream under the cover of darkness. 

They only stopped swimming when it got too cold. 

They dried off and dressed, and they slept in Techno’s hotel room.

\---

It’s the next morning. They are spending all of their time together, now. It’s as if they know it’s too limited.

Techno is glad he isn’t with Mary anymore. His heart is for Dream, anyways. 

They swim at the beach and splash each other and laugh, they talk happily as they sit together in a cafe and they dance in the privacy of Techno’s hotel room. Dream only ever slips away to go see Betty, and reassure her that nothings wrong, and to make up boring excuses as to why he isn’t spending all his time with her, instead. His guilt accumulates in the pits of his stomach and with each passing moment he is less sure of what to do. 

He never meant for any of this to happen, as he looks at the brunette sitting next to him at a movie showing, one they went to go see together. He doesn’t know what this is.

They are sitting in a grove on a quiet side of the island. There is nature here, tall trees and bushes and tall grass and leaves, that protect them from the prying eyes of the city. There are flowers too, which Techno admires. Dream’s legs are pulled to his chest as he watches the other boy. 

“You like those?” Dream asks. 

“Yeah, I like the little blue ones. They used to grow outside my house, when I was a kid.”

“Oh. A pretty little cottage out on a plain?” 

Techno laughed, happily. “You know the kind.” 

Dream crawled toward him and kissed his face. 

“Are these kisses loveless?” Techno asks. 

“Not at all. Not anymore. They were once, though.”

“That’s what I suspected. I thought you loved that woman? How can you love two people at once.” 

“I am teetering on the edge between you and her.”

“Ah. Which way will you fall?” 

“Her, I hope.” 

“I see. If you fall in my direction I will catch you.”

Dream smiled at him. “I like this metaphor.”

“I’m sure you do.” 

Dream kissed him but something painful welled up in his stomach when he did. _What is this, what is this, this is so foreign._

“Guilty?” Techno asked. 

“Yes. And…” 

“And what?” 

Dream thought he saw the other man burst into flames, but it was just a trick of the light, from the way the sun caught on his now tanned skin. Instead of answering, Dream kissed him again, and Techno let him.

\---

Dream and Betty start to fall apart. It’s something about the way he won’t even go see her anymore, too reluctant to leave his new lover's side. It’s clear which way he fell.

She is angry, and she starts to spread rumors. “That man I used to be with, he likes this man. Yes, this new man. They spend a lot of time together. Slip away at night, if you know what I mean.” Her rumors are mean, and to Dream they feel untrue, who could never equate what him and Techno have to something as simple as that. 

Techno’s mouth becomes a grinning smile, truly happy, as he watches Dream fall into his arms completely. 

“I am yours,” he whispers to him. Dream is crying, wet tears fall down his face. They can embrace each other easier now. Dream’s guilt will fade soon, he can feel his stomach loosening already. 

The days pass in Long Island.

\---

“Will you stay with me? Live with me?” Techno whispers to him. “Buy a house in Long Island and be with me, here?”

“You’re a fool. We’ll be killed. Don’t you have a job, a life? Somewhere not here?” 

“I’ll quit my job, and find a new one.”

“We’ll be killed, we can’t stay here.” 

Techno looked at him seriously. “I don’t care. I’ll spend the rest of my days here with you, it’ll be worth it.”

“You’re insane. And you know I don’t feel the same way, not that intensely.”

“You’re lying.” 

Dream stood up and walked to the edge of the clearing, an area by the cave where they loved instead of going to Gatsby’s party. The two of them had taken to meeting there. He let the wind hit his face. “I'll stay here with you.” 

It was not a wedding vow but it might as well have been one. The same commitment, the same weight. ‘Till death do we part,’ had less meaning to him, anyways. 

Techno went to him and held him tightly.


	5. The Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter, and the next will probably be the last. this is just a short, tragic, love story. 
> 
> <3

They buy a place out of the way and live together for a month. 

Techno is walking along the strand in a little area out past the lighthouse when a car drives up just a ways away from him. Three men come out of it, big and dressed gruffly, and they all start looking at him. He knows to run. 

Over the rocks and grass and past the cliffside, he sprints as far and fast as he can go, calling out for help all the while. The men don’t let him get far, and he is quickly caught and pulled into their arms. 

The feeling of a man’s arm around him, but they are not like Dream’s. This is sour and meant to hurt him, a fist flies into his side and he is reminded of the lighthouse, but it’s not the same, in the way it doesn’t stop. Beating after beating lay down on him from hands he thinks must really be God’s, punishing him, finally. His layout of sins spread before him on his body in a pattern of black and blue, a taste of metal in his mouth from cruel fingers that scraped his lips in their fury. When he is weak and dizzy he hears the sound of a match being lit. 

The flames are tossed onto his clothes and they catch, he watches them spread through his shirt. He yelps in fear and then runs into the ocean, dives into it, just as the fire reaches his jacket and starts to sting his stomach. It extinguishes the flames with a _hisss_ , and when he peers his head out of the salty water the men are gone. 

With torn and burned clothes, dripping wet, he returns to Dream. The blond man holds him in his arms and makes him warm and dry and presses kisses to every place where they had laid down cruelty, to his bruises, a rib that could be broken, the bloodied lips. “Sh-sh-shh, there, there,” he whispers into Techno’s ear as he gently pats him down with a towel. “It’s alright, it’s okay,” he whispers as he pours aloe on the burns. Techno lets himself be taken care of- although really he could sort himself out, if he wanted to. 

They both knew this would happen, but neither knew it would happen so soon. Their month together in the little place was good and bright, and shines in their memory, a beautiful thing to keep them warm if the nights in their lives ever got too cold. But now it was time to leave that behind. 

Techno gives him a tired smile. It is earnest, and hopeful. “Where to now, soldier?” he asks. He isn’t actually sure if Dream fought in the war. 

Dream gives him one back. It is filled with love. “Anywhere. The world is ours.” 

They grin with real happiness as they fill their pockets with what money they have, money Techno got from the off jobs he’s worked in the time that passed, money that Dream got from his more steady line of work. But both would quit it all, now, in favor of something worth more than green paper ever could be. 

They leave behind a little bit for rent, and then they stuff backpacks with clothes and things they want to take. It’s night, and they wait quietly as the cargo-train workers do their final checks, and just as the train is sneaking away they silently run up to it and jump into a car. This time, it’s Techno who pulls Dream onboard, and he’ll forever remember the look on the other man’s face as his eyes shined with something loose and light and free, something that had never been there before in his whole life. 

They made love on the floor as the days rolled away, and when the train rolled to a halt they jumped off with laughing and joy. What was this? Who were they? Neither knew, anymore, and they didn’t care. 

Techno, once, thought he saw three shadowy faces watching them in the night. He startled and beckoned Dream to come off on him, but when the other boy peaked his head up they were gone. Dream kissed him tenderly, softly, until the fear was replaced with a sweet melancholy that made them hold each other tightly. 

And where now? They picked up jobs in Jersey and liked them. 

Things were good, for a while.

\---

Techno’s wore his sexuality in his walk and the way his voice influxed when he was happy. It put a target on his head. Dream tried to teach him to do it differently, to walk more manly, to keep his voice level. It worked, a little bit, but every once in a while Techno would slip up and the truth would fall through, bare, ravished by the eyes of whoever was around. He could recover with an offhand chuckle or a snarky comment, but it would always be too late. Someone would know, or at least suspect.

They found themselves moving so often, it was like they were on the run. But they didn’t mind or care. They had each other, and that’s what mattered. 

They went to Albany, New York.


	6. The Fates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is folks! the ending. the final chapter that was really the whole reason i wrote this story, i guess. 
> 
> cw: elements of horror, blood

Dream spent the day sorting boxes in a warehouse, a temporary job that a nice old man gave him. He’s coming home now, walking down the long and dimly lit streets that the city has to offer. 

The pavement is so dark it looks almost nonexistent, like Dream could place his foot into it and sink far below, below the city, below the earth. The lights start to look strange, their orange hue almost inhuman as it lights up the street, casting shadows from the tall poles that grow taller with each step, and the shadows start to flicker and waver like they were alive. 

The street feels empty and the houses all go dim. Dream stops walking, terrified. 

Three obscurities appear to him at the base of a streetlamp. He cannot see their faces and he isn’t sure if they have any. 

One speaks, and he recognizes the voice. It is the voice of one of the men who knocked on their door, the night of Gatsby’s party. “Was it good?” it asks. The words trill with the highs and lows of mockery. 

Another speaks, the voice of another man who taunted them from the door. His words drip with the pitches of disgust. “Was it worth it?” 

The third thing’s voice sounds like the pounding of a fist on wood and the deafening rattle of a door handle. It doesn’t use words but it manages to get it’s point across. It whispers, as cold and sure as ice. 

In the same instant that they appear the shadows are gone, and Dream’s heart plummets to the bottom of his chest. He breaks out into a run. “Techno!” he yells, the name echoing away from him. “Techno!” He is scared and moves faster. 

He gets to their apartment and tries the door, it flies open because the lock has been broken. He finds Techno facedown in a pool of his own blood. 

“No…” He clutches his lover’s body. Grief swarms him and pulls him down into an ocean of the feeling, fathoms deep and cruelly suffocating. 

Techno is clinging on to life, but hopelessly so. The men who came and hurt him were thorough in their brutality, so that he would not stand up ever again. Still his chest heaves, still trying, even though there is no chance. 

He is seeing something bright and strange, as Dream clutches him in his arms. Pretty green eyes and blond hair seem to encompass him completely, so that it’s his whole being, his whole existence. It’s a good existence! He likes Dream’s eyes… 

He sees the color green of the grass, too, the one outside that lighthouse that he’s fond of, in Long Island. He wonders if he will stay in that lighthouse forever, now. 

As consciousness fades from him, he is swallowed by the stars.

\---

Dream grieves for a long time. Betty comes and finds him, her meanness gone with the death of his lover. Dream finds this fact a little bitter, but tells himself if the tables were turned he would have been the same way.

Dream wants Techno to be buried somewhere close to him, so he can visit the grave often, but his family has other plans. They put him in a plot alongside his brother, who died when he was young. Dream didn’t even know the man had a brother. 

“See,” says Betty, trying to be consoling, “See how little you knew about him? You didn’t even know him.” Her words do anything but console and he has the urge to hit her, hard. 

“Don’t you talk about him that way,” he says to her. She recoils from the malice in his tone and sulks the rest of the day.

Dream can’t mourn. He smokes constantly and can’t think clearly. He tries to cry and nothing comes out of his eyes, no matter what he does. He scrubs his hands until the knuckles bleed and he makes love to Betty pretending she is Techno. He doesn’t try to do it, it just happens, and he drowns in guilt every time it does. If she notices, she doesn’t say anything. She just tries to console him every way she can.

He wants to find the men responsible for his love’s death, but the truth is, it could have been anybody. Dream finds no solace in revenge, anyways. 

It’s a cold and lonely night and he can’t sleep. He gets out of bed and brings nothing with him, almost in a stupor, a blurry haze. Betty stirs in her sleep beside him but she doesn’t wake. 

He finds himself at the train station, and gets on a train going to Long Island. He sleeps on the seats and hears a deck of cards being shuffled, the familiar _fwwwip_ noise making him smile. He knows nobody is playing cards at this hour and it is just his imagination.

The train arrives and he goes to the cave where he and Techno were together for the first time, the first _real_ time. He sits where they sat together and closes his eyes again, still tired. 

In his sleep… 

Techno is standing at the edge of the water. Dream sees him and runs to him, but is unable to hold the man in his arms, for whatever reason. They speak from a distance. 

“Hi, Dream,” he says, and his voice is the sound of glass breaking on a marble floor. 

“Hello,” is all Dream can choke out. 

Techno turns away from him, looking out over the tide. 

Dream speaks: “My love, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for what happened to you. Curse the men who did this to you. It should have been different, it should have been different…” 

“My dear, it’s okay. Deep down we both knew something like this would happen. And it’s okay. I enjoyed every moment of our time together. Every second was worth it, every second was good.” Techno reaches down and plunges his hands into the water, palms flat so it makes a big splash. The noise fills the air and it feels pure and happy. 

Dream stares out at the other man. “I can’t grieve.” 

“Why not?” 

“I don’t know. Can you help me?” 

There is a long moment where the two of them are just standing together, looking out at the ocean. Then, suddenly, Techno whirls around and lunges toward him. He fights the barrier between life and death with all his strength, pushing forward, until he lands a small peck onto Dream’s lips. He is flung backwards and they are separated again. “Now cry,” Techno says. 

Dream snaps his eyes open, awake. His lips tingle with a ghost. 

He focuses on the feeling. 

Water gushes from his eyes like a river, fast paced and warmed by the sun, it pours out of him in a seemingly infinite fountain. He sobs and holds onto his shirt for dear life as his grief leaves him through his face, ugly and choking moans and cries, half-broken pleas of his dead lover’s name. The water becomes him, the salt of the ocean mixing with the salt of his tears. He twists his clothes in his hands and almost rips the fabric apart as he’s finally freed of his sorrowful, sorrowful weight. It pours out of him, pours out of him, drains from him, until he is left finally free. 

“Thank you,” he whispers to no one, as he sits there gasping in relief.

\---

Mary comes to his apartment one day. He had never seen her before, but somehow he instantly knows it’s her. The giveaway was probably the hair.

He lets her in, and Betty puts on a kettle, welcoming her into the house warmly. While she is in the kitchen, the two of them talk. 

Mary came to see if he ever mentioned her before he was gone. Dream tells her that he did, and he is not lying. Betty hears what they are talking about and leaves, graciously, retiring to her bedroom for the night. 

They share every memory they have of him in hushed voices and big eyes, as if talking about something precious and sacred. Everything from the way he laughed, to his favorite things, to his face when he slept was spoken about between them, nothing kept, nothing selfishly coveted. They spent the whole evening relating all the stories they had about him to each other, until the sun came up and Mary left with a weary goodbye. “Come again, you’re always welcome here,” Dream said as she took her coat from the door. She smiled at him knowingly, for that was not true, and said thank you. 

Dream goes back to the cave on Long Island often. He manages to move on, to live on, and he has a good life. And he’s happy. It’s okay. Besides, he knows that when death pulls him into whatever comes after, there is going to be someone waiting for him. Someone who likes his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is! The story of Dream and Technoblade, two lovers from a golden age. I hope you enjoyed it. <3


End file.
